


Submerged in darkness

by HeadFullOfAliens



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Will, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Murder, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, Omega Verse, Omega Will, Possessive Hannibal, Rimming, Unpresented Will, presenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadFullOfAliens/pseuds/HeadFullOfAliens
Summary: Will is in his early twenties, and still hasn't presented. 
On a troubled day, he meets Hannibal, an Alpha that offers to take care of him after he's been beaten up.
Something about Hannibal's dark aura attracts Will inevitably, and he soon sees himself drowning in the Alpha's darkness.
Omegaverse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an omegaverse where betas have some sort of slight smell, I guess. Unpresented people get discriminated. 
> 
> Any mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Enjoy. :)

It was unusually cold that night. Will had to sleep tucked under two extra blankets so he wouldn’t freeze. He’d cover his head with all of them, trying to sleep. It had been an awful day; his father had been more nervous than ever. He was tired. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come to him.

_Tic toc, tic toc._

He couldn’t help but hold his breath. He was too aware of even his own breathing. He suddenly felt trapped, like something was crushing his lungs.

He heard a muffled whisper he couldn’t decipher, breaking the silence for a second, a small crack, and then nothing.

He felt like he was going to throw up. He knew he should hide; something wasn’t right. Instead, he peeled off the covers and stood up on unsteady legs, walking slowly, careful to not make a sound, outside of his room. It took him a whole minute to open his door, doing so carefully so it wouldn’t make a sound. He slid outside, walking on his tiptoes, still holding his breath. He thought he could hear someone breathing. He couldn’t recognize the scent that lingered on the air around him.

 _Dad?_ He wanted to ask, but no words came out. Instead, he walked towards the stairs, peeking down to see what was going on.

He saw nothing for the next two minutes. Maybe his dad’s nerves had just gotten to him; maybe nothing was wrong. He allowed himself to breathe.

His breath got caught on his throat when he saw the shadow of a man, holding something Will couldn’t recognize in his hand.

The man looked at him, and Will looked back into his dark eyes. _Alpha._ The scent on the air was the scent of the Alpha downstairs. 

The Alpha smiled at him briefly, and Will smiled back. “Are you going to kill me too, Mr. Alpha?” he whispered.

For half a second, a shocked expression crossed the Alpha’s face. It was gone before Will could catch it. Instead, the Alpha’s smile widened. “No, little boy,” he replied, his voice a whisper Will could vaguely hear. “Not tonight. Go back to bed.”

Will nodded, but didn’t move for another minute. He stared at the Alpha, feeling calm. In the back of his mind, he knew he should be freaking out. He knew he was in front of a killer. He didn’t care. He understood the man. He understood, in that moment, why he had done what Will knew he did.

He didn’t know why, but he _understood._

“Goodnight, Alpha,” he said finally, standing up and going back to bed.

The next morning, when he went downstairs to prepare to school, he wasn’t so shocked about what he’d found. Or so he’d told himself, despite the turn his stomach made at the picture in front of him.

*

Another failure of a session.

Even 10 years after the incident, Will still was wandering from therapist to therapist. They all had the same reaction; they just couldn’t handle him. This time, it hadn’t been any different.

The Alpha who had attended him questioned him about suppressants, and when Will said he wasn’t on them, the man seemed to understand immediately.

“Leave,” he said, voice harsh. “I can’t treat someone like you.”

When Will had tried to protest, the Alpha had punched him. Once in the jaw, then again in the ribs. Twice. Will had left panting, his breath getting caught in his chest every time he would try and inhale to calm himself down.

He left in a hurry, not so sure where he was going. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to protect him. Laws didn’t even offer protection to someone like him; he wasn’t an alpha, nor a beta, nor an omega. He was a freak. He was something no one wished to face. 

He hid behind an alley, trying to recover his breath. He winced every time he tried to breathe in deeply. He winced with every harsh exhale. He could feel bruises forming, and he asked himself vaguely if perhaps he had broken a rib.

His back against a cold wall, he let himself slid down onto the ground, closing his eyes to try and deal with the pain. It wasn’t too much, perhaps, but he was fragile. His body thin from malnourishment, skin pale from barely going out. 

“Are you okay?” he heard a voice whisper above him.

“N–No…” he tried to get away, flinching away from the touch in his arm. It hurt too much to even move, but he had to. The man reeked of Alpha. He didn’t want to get hit again. Not again.

“Who did this?”

“Alpha…” he muttered. He looked at the man, who was now kneeling next to him. His sharp cheekbones made him smile, a memory he couldn’t quite place right now. “Go away,” he said, finally. 

“Let me help you,” the Alpha replied, reaching out for his shoulders. Will tried to flinch away, but cried in pain as the movement seemed to crush something in his torso. “Please.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m fine, it’s… nothing. Go away.”

“Just let me check if you have broken a rib,” the man said, trying to get a hand to Will’s torso. The closed position Will was in made it difficult. “Please, I’m a doctor.”

“You’re an Alpha,” Will replied. 

“So I am,” the man nodded. “But I am also a doctor. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Will believed him. He wanted to believe him; his scent was soothing, for some reason. He nodded twice.

“Can you stand up?”

“I can try.”

The man nodded, and drew one of Will’s arms around his broad shoulders. He grabbed him by the other arm and helped him stand up, slowly. Will leaned into the man’s shoulders, despite himself. He felt too tired to stand by his own. 

“Let me take you home,” he asked. “My car is just around the corner. I’ll get it here quickly.”

“No,” Will managed to mutter, clutching to the man’s shoulders. “Don’t leave me here.”

“I won’t. I’ll just get my car.”

“No.”

Will heard the man chuckle. “Alright, but you’ll have to walk with me, then,” Will nodded. “Can you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… slowly.”

The man nodded. He started dragging Will along the street. “What’s your name?” he asked, clearly trying to distract Will from the pain.

“Will,” he said, trying to walk by his own, and failing miserably. He let himself be dragged by the man’s strong arms. “Will Graham.”

“Nice to meet you, Will,” at that, Will chuckled. “My name is Hannibal Lecter.”

“It sure must be nice,” he mocked. He wanted to ask something else, but he felt no strength in him to do so. He waited until the man –Hannibal– announced they had arrived to his car. He got dragged to the passenger’s seat, the door shutting as soon as he sat in. Hannibal followed him shortly, starting the car.

It was so nice and comfortable, Will thought. He tried to remember the last time he had gotten into a car, but he couldn’t. It must have been more than ten years ago.

“Where do you live?” Hannibal asked him, but Will could no longer hear him. He had fallen asleep.

* 

When Will opened his eyes, he was met by a white ceiling. His breath got caught on his throat as he wondered, for a second, if someone had gotten him to a hospital. He hated hospitals. The people who worked there loved to poke him everywhere, just to see what was wrong with him; why a man on his early twenties hadn’t presented as an alpha, beta, nor omega.

Will wondered how odd did he look. It wasn’t something about his appearance, was it? He looked like quite the average guy, he thought. So it had to be the scent. He didn’t smell of anything, not even the slight smell a beta gave off. If anything, he smelled like dirt.

He tried to move, look around where he was, but everything hurt. He vaguely remembered being beaten up.

The smell of Alpha reminded him of what had happened, exactly. That scent in particular made him feel just a little bit better.

“Hannibal?” he asked, his voice sounding weak.

He heard footsteps, and then a door being opened. “Will?” he heard the voice of the Alpha. “Are you awake now?”

Will nodded. Then, thinking about it twice, he tried to talk. “Yeah,” he muttered. The footsteps got closer. He saw Hannibal’s worried look, and felt strange. He tried to think if that sort of look had ever been directed to him.

“I need to know,” the man said, touching Will’s forehead to check his temperature, “Are you on suppressants? I apologize for the intrusion, but I need to know so I can medicate you safely.”

“Medicate me?” Will frowned. “What? Why?”

“You’re in pain,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Uh,” Will hesitated. He wasn’t so sure he should tell the man. What if he got beaten up again? But his presence somehow calmed him down enough to think about it twice. Hannibal didn’t seem like the kind of Alpha who would beat him up just because he wasn’t an omega.

Then again, no one else seemed like the type until Will had their actual fist against his face.

“I can take painkillers,” he said, finally. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” the man insisted. “It would be better if you were as specific as you could be. I need to be sure it won’t interfere with anything.”

Will made a little annoyed noise. “How could it interfere with anything?” he said, and regretted it immediately. He knew nothing about suppressants. What if he was giving himself away? “I’m sure it’s okay,” he said, trying to sound confident.

He heard a sigh before a pill was extended to him. He took it, and swallowed it down before realizing Hannibal was offering him a glass of water as well.

“Sorry,” he apologized, taking the glass and chugging the water down. “Thanks,” he offered the glass back. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain stopped him. He hissed.

“I checked your ribs,” Hannibal informed him, a hand over his chest so he wouldn’t try to get up again. “They’re not broken, but you still seem quite weak,” he sounded worried yet again. Will was starting to like the sound of that. “Have you been eating well, Will?”

He considered telling the truth for a moment. Then, it occurred to him that would only bring him pity. He didn’t want the Alpha’s pity. He nodded.

“You don’t seem very well,” Hannibal argued. “You’re quite pale, and thin. I hate to bring it up again, but maybe your suppressants aren’t working quite well.”

“I’m not on fucking suppressants,” Will finally spat, forcing himself up just to prove a point. He regretted it as soon as the sharp pain made him moan.

Hannibal was cautious the next time he spoke. “Have you not presented yet, Will?” every word said slowly, like he was afraid of offending him.

Will looked at him, trying to determine whether he was getting kicked out or not. He saw pure curiosity in the man’s eyes.

 _Fuck it._ “Yeah, I haven’t,” he admitted. “That’s probably why I’m weak, or something,” he lied.

Hannibal nodded slowly.

“Are you going to beat me up?” Will asked, looking down at his hands.

“Is that why the other man did this to you?”

“Yeah,” Will sighed. “It happens surprisingly often. You’d think I’d be used to it already.”

“No one should be used to being treated so awfully,” Hannibal told him, sounding just slightly angry. “Do you happen to know the name of the man who did this?”

“Why? You gonna beat him up?” Will chuckled. “I mean, I’m sure you’re probably disappointed you didn’t just rescue an omega in distress, but this isn’t any better either. I don’t need you to defend me.”

“I merely wanted to suggest pressing charges,” he said, calmly. Will noticed an emotion cross his eyes for a second. He couldn’t recognize it. 

“Yeah, like that would help,” he rolled his eyes. “The law doesn’t care about you if you’re a freak like me.”

“You are not a freak,” Hannibal assured him. “There have been two other cases, just like yours.”

“Oh, wow, two. Quite a lot,” he joked. “What happened to them?”

“I’m afraid they’re not happy endings,” Hannibal admitted. “Perhaps you won’t want to hear about them.”

“I’m asking.”

“One of them got cancer, after repeatedly trying to force a heat,” Hannibal said, expression stoic. “The other one killed herself out of despair.”

“What a bright future awaits me,” Will grimaced. Before Hannibal could reply, he continued. “Anyway, thanks for, uh… Not letting me die in the streets, I guess. But I should go,” he tried to get up, but both the pain and Hannibal stopped him.

“You have to stay, at least until your bruises have healed.”

“Yeah, sure,” Will wanted to laugh, but barely managed to chuckle again. It hurt too much. “That would take some time,” he tried to prove his point by lifting his shirt up slowly, trying hard not to touch any skin. “See?” he asked, his ribs exposed. “The bruise under the recent one,” he said. “The one that’s just a little bit lighter.”

“How often does this happen?” Hannibal sounded truly offended for a moment.

“That’s the issue,” Will replied. “This is from a month ago,” he covered himself. “They won’t heal in quite some time. It’s better if I go now.”

“That isn’t normal.”

“No shit.”

Hannibal sighed. “Please, I must insist. At least, stay here until you can move freely again.”

Will thought about it for a moment. “Okay,” he nodded. He hoped it would only take a few days.

Hannibal smiled at him, reassuringly. “I’ll bring you more water,” as soon as he got away, Will missed his scent.

He really hoped he could get out of there soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gory descriptions, and subjects.
> 
> Enjoy~

_There was a tiny red dot outside his room, when he got up. Then, another one, just by the first step of the stairs. The next one was in the middle of the living room, and the last one, right in the entrance to the kitchen._

_He followed them, connecting the dots, like he sometimes did with some coloring books. He always knew the shape of what he was outlining, even before connecting all the dots with his pencil. This time, it wasn’t any different. He knew what he would find; he just didn’t expect it to look the way it did._

_He couldn’t have recognized the man in front of him; not by his face, for that matter. And yet, dark curls in a fist, brown broken glass in the other, he knew who this was. Sitting naked in front of the table, his head gone and his bowels spread over his lap, he knew this was who his father had always been._

_Like a painting, precise and clear, capturing the essence of the man displayed._

_The fist that held the dark curls tightened its grip, the headless body standing up, threatening, smelling like rage. Like alcohol. Like fish. He could almost hear his skin breaking under the pale knuckles._

_He could almost feel the pain once more._

*

Will woke up, panting, covered in sweat. He didn’t remember the dream, but he knew what it was about. He _knew_. By the way he felt his legs tremble under the heavy weight of the dark blue covers, he knew.

Trying to breathe, he looked around him; he could barely see anything within the darkness he found himself in. _Not my house_ , he thought as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and he was able to see the outline of a fireplace in front of the bed.

He wished there was a clock somewhere. The lack of a sound, letting him know time was passing by, made him feel anxious. It maddened him, making him feel as if he was still dreaming; no sound to ground him. 

When he tried to stand up, he realized it didn’t hurt as much as it used to. How long had he been there? He tried to remember, but his mind went as far as Hannibal offering him more water. He looked around him; this was definitely his room. If not for the lavish decoration, then for the scent that lingered to the sheets.

He got up on unsteady legs, feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all. He walked out of the room, disoriented, wondering where the Alpha could be sleeping. He tried not to think too much about the decoration around the enormous house, tried hard to ignore the sculptures and the horns and the paintings everywhere.

“Hannibal?” he tried, voice broken. 

There was silence for a minute, before Will heard light footsteps. He focused on the sound, until the smell of the man became so strong he had to look up.

He gulped, suddenly out of words. Why had he called him? What did he want?

“I think I need to go,” he merely said, wishing the Alpha wouldn’t insist on him staying.

“It’s too early still,” the Alpha answered, a hand carefully put over Will’s shoulder. “It’s 6 am.”

“For how long did I sleep?”

“Around forty hours, I believe.”

“What? Two days?”

“Almost.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as the man switched the lights on, brightness suddenly filling the room. When he felt Hannibal’s hand over his shoulder again, he dared open them. He realized he was two steps away from a piano. Hannibal was behind him.

“I think I’m better,” Will muttered, not so sure what he was supposed to say or do. “My ribs don’t hurt as much, and I can walk. I think I’m good to go.”

“Stay for breakfast,” Hannibal requested, although it sounded more like a command. Will nodded.

*

“So you’re a doctor?” Will asked, watching Hannibal serve him coffee. He took a sip of it and closed his eyes for a moment, appreciating the warmth, and the delicious taste.

“I am,” Hannibal nodded, sitting opposite to Will in the stainless table. It slightly reminded Will of an autopsy table. The thought made him look away, to his coffee.

“What kind?”

“I used to be a surgeon,” he answered, smelling the coffee before taking a sip. “I am a psychiatrist now.”

Will played with the bacon on his plate around, not so sure whether he should eat it. It felt like such a luxury, he vaguely wondered if it was poisoned. His stomach made a sound, and at that, Will decided, poison or not, the food looked good. It tasted even better. He almost moaned around his fork.

“How does one go from slicing people to getting inside their heads?”

He heard Hannibal chuckle. “It was quite a smooth transition, actually,” he replied. “The tension you’re in while operating someone is almost equal to the one you feel when dealing with a psychotic breakdown.”

“You could cut something wrong, and then they’d bleed out,” he reflected, “Or you could say the wrong thing, and then they’d cut their wrists.”

“It is quite rare, though,” Hannibal nodded. “One rarely deals with hard situations, in both fields. Usually, surgeries don’t involve as much danger. And neurotic people are often the ones at one’s office.”

“Then, they both must be boring as hell.”

Hannibal didn’t add anything to that. “What do you do, Will?”

“What do you think I do?” he mocked. “You said yourself I look like I haven’t eaten in days."

“You certainly act like you haven’t, too,” Hannibal pointed to Will’s empty plate. “May I offer you something else?”

Will shook his head no, suddenly feeling guilty. “Sorry, I just–“ he looked down at his hands. “You’re right,” he sighed. “Guess I haven’t eaten properly in a while.”

“And why is that?”

Will shrugged. “You can’t really study anything when you’re like me, you know?” he frowned. “Nobody knows for sure, you could just turn out to be an Omega one day. I wanted to study forensic psychology, but they wouldn’t let me because of that.”

“So why didn’t you study an Omega-friendly career?”

Will snorted. “Have you ever read about what Omegas can study?” he sneered. “Rights are supposed to have improved, but they still can’t do much. The only difference is that they’re not tied up to their Alpha’s bed now.”

Hannibal hummed. “There’s still a long way to go,” he agreed. “So what did you do?”

“I worked as a barista,” he grimaced. “But then I ran out of cologne, and they fired me.”

“Cologne?”

“Yeah, some flowery perfume mixed with beta pheromones.”

“I see. What did you do, then?”

“I tried to survive on what I had left while I got more of that thing,” he explained. “But then the asshole who sold it to me got killed. I was there when he got shot, so the police took my statement, but,” he scratched his head, awkwardly, “I don’t know, I ended up at that… man’s office.”

“The one who beat you up.”

Will nodded.

“He was a policeman.”

“No,” Will looked down at his empty mug, and then to Hannibal’s empty plate. “A therapist,” he saw Hannibal’s jaw clench. He stood up. “I really need to go.”

Hannibal stood up, calmly putting the dishes away. Then, he turned to Will. “Let me take you home, then.”

“No, I can just–“

“Do you know where you are?” Hannibal interrupted him.

Will gulped before shaking his head. “But I can find a way to–“

“I insist. We’re quite far from where I found you, I’m afraid. An hour away, by car.”

Will doubted before nodding. “Okay.”

*

An hour and a half later, they were finally entering Wolf Trap. Will had been quiet all the way, looking out by the window, trying to ignore the man besides him, only talking when Hannibal had asked where he lived.

The streets were covered in snow, and Will was more aware now than ever at his lack of clothes. The black coat he had been wearing for the past god-only-knows-how-many years was wearing thin, barely protecting him from the cold. He knew he would miss the warmth of the car as soon as he got out. He didn’t want to get out of it, wanted to curl in the comfortable seat and sleep forever.

He only sat straight at the sight of something that looked like blood. Will shook his head, trying to get the image out of it, knowing he was just imagining it. He had to be imagining it.

When he saw another small drop painting the snow red, he turned to Hannibal. “Turn here.”

“We’re quite far from the address you gave me.”

“Turn.”

He saw the Alpha hesitate, instinctively tensing up at the command in Will’s voice. He turned, though, where Will had told him to. Will returned his gaze to the window, looking for another drop.

“There might be a wounded animal around,” he said. “I just want to see if we can help it.”

Hannibal gave him a curious look, but Will was too focused on the snow to notice. His breath hitched when he caught another glimpse of red staining the snow, right outside an old-looking house.

Will knew the house. He had hid there, once, right after he’d been fired from his job as a barista. A man had noticed him when he was walking back home, a beta, and he ran until he found himself in that same old construction. A month ago, it looked like it was going to crumble. It didn’t look any different now, and Will was afraid, as he told Hannibal to stop the car, that he would find a wounded dog in there.

Or so he told himself, as he got out of the car along with Hannibal. They walked inside the house, the door long gone, the faint light of the morning barely helping them see anything.

Will gulped and squeezed his eyes shut as the outline of a body presented itself just two feet away from them both.

“ _Alpha,_ ” he whispered, lost in a memory. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

The flowers, the face replaced by a bloody mess with no identity, the branch growing from its stomach. It became too much, too much, _too much_. He saw himself in its place, he saw the killer impaling his corpse with the branch, flowers all around him, bloody, as the artist looked down at him like he was a pig.

He looked back at him, meeting his dark gaze. His face was blurry, but it was slowly becoming clear. Slowly, _slowly…_

He fainted.

*

Hannibal’s worried eyes were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

“Where–?”

Hannibal put a finger over his lips. “Don’t talk, calm down. Take it slow. You’re safe. We’re back in Baltimore,” at Will’s confused look, Hannibal added: “You’re in my room again.”

“Oh,” Will looked away, to his surroundings. He felt sick. His skin felt sticky with sweat, and he felt dizzy when he looked up to see the same white ceiling he had waken up to a few days ago. “What…? What happened to the…?”

“I called the police,” Hannibal’s hand was on his forehead. “I brought you back here, since I know what happened last time you were faced by the police.”

“Too unstable,” Will echoed the voice of an officer. “They told me I had to seek help, that I needed to–“

“You’re safe now. I got you away from there.”

Will nodded, breathing in the soothing scent of the Alpha. “Thank you,” he felt cold when Hannibal got away from him.

There was silence for a while. Will could almost feel Hannibal’s desire to ask something. He sighed, turning his head to see the man sitting in a chair next to the bed.

“You want to ask something.”

Hannibal nodded slowly. “I am a psychiatrist, after all,” he paused for a moment before continuing. “Someone was shot in front of you,” he said, slowly. “Did you black out, too?”

“Why didn’t you just bring me back home?”

“I was afraid you were ill, and I doubted you would have any sort of medication at your house,” it wasn’t completely true, Will could tell, but he tried not to think too much into it.

“I don’t feel so well,” he agreed.

“Your temperature is slightly high,” he replied. “It doesn’t seem to be anything serious, although you were out for more than an hour.”

“I guess I was just tired,” he said. “And no, I didn’t black out then. If you’re asking because you think that’s why they sent me to a psychiatrist, then no, it wasn’t because of that.”

Hannibal looked at him, the question in his amber eyes. Will felt too dizzy to want to explain anything.

“I blacked out because it was too much,” he replied instead, voice barely a whisper. “I… saw the faceless man there, and I saw myself in his place,” he shuddered. “But I guess this is borderline therapy, and I don’t have the money to pay you, Doctor Lecter,” the name intended to make it all sound like mockery, but the whole phrase came out weak. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by the Alpha’s scent. He felt like he was going to faint again.

He closed his eyes as a sharp pain crossed his head.

“We are merely having conversations,” he heard the Alpha reply. “You can speak all you like. I’d like to hear it.”

Will’s head was beginning to throb. “I saw the killer. I saw him looking down at me, like I was a pig.”

“How was he? The killer.”

“His eyes…” his throbbing headache only got worse at the memory of it. “His _scent,_ ” he whispered. “I remember it.”

Hannibal put a hand in Will’s head. He caressed his hair, as Will trembled under his touch. 

“I remember _him._ ”

“Do you?”

Will opened his eyes, the memory suddenly gone, right when he was so close to catching it. Like a word on the tip of his tongue, it just kept running away. Two dots, almost connected, getting further away the harder Will tried to tie them together. The harder he tried to tie something inside his head.

“I can’t…”

Hannibal’s hand pulled just slightly at his hair, shushing him. “That’s enough, Will. It’s okay. You need to rest now.”

“But I almost…”

“I know. You will, eventually,” his soothing voice whispered into his ear, his body closer to Will’s. Hannibal’s scent almost lured him back to unconsciousness. “Close your eyes now. Rest.”

Will nodded. “Sleep with me.”

He heard nothing for a whole minute. “I’ll stay right next to you until you fall asleep.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He saw the Alpha smile at him before he closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit thought 'who updates a fanfic at 3 am?', then I thought to myself 'oh boy 3 am!' and here we are.
> 
> Enjoy.

He knew how he looked. Dirty, messy curls. Ill-fitting clothes, three-day-old stubble, lost eyes, skin too pale. Eyes too big for his face. Head too big for his scrawny body. In front of Hannibal’s closet mirror, he knew exactly how he looked. Like a ragged doll. Like a dying butterfly. Like something that could have been pretty, aesthetically pleasing, but never got to be it. Stuck in dirty ponds, drowning.

He couldn’t understand why he was still there. He couldn’t understand why his broken reflection walked away from him, fading into fog.

Closing his eyes, he could still see himself, undefined, lost. His face torn apart, bloody carnations all around him, a tree growing from his stomach. He was unworthy, unkind, not deserving of the life he’d had. The dark wall around him seemed made out of ice.

Why was he there, again?

Where was he, again?

 _Who_ was he, again?

“Will?”

He was freezing.

“They didn’t deserve it.”

He felt the Alpha’s hand over his shoulder, suddenly making him aware of his lack of clothes.

“The victim, I presume.” 

“Victims.”

“More than one?”

“He saw them. He knew who they were. And they didn’t deserve it.”

“Nobody deserves to be killed, nor to be displayed so cruelly.”

Will shook his head. “I – I don’t mean that,” he turned towards the warm body. “They didn’t deserve their lives, nor their…” he gulped, “organs.” 

“This killer saw them as inferior,” Hannibal agreed. “He’s a narcissistic psychopath, then.”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, he’s – he’s…”

“You can tell me more about him inside, Will. Come, let’s put you some clothes on.”

It wasn’t until Hannibal turned and made him look away from his eyes that Will realized he was standing outside the man’s house, barefoot and almost naked in the middle of the snow.

He nodded to himself, and walked behind Hannibal.

*

A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. He felt like he felt when the police came to his house, back when his father had been murdered.

Lost, yet unimpressed. 

“You said he wasn’t a psychopath,” Hannibal encouraged him to go on, handing him a mug. Will took the warm mug between his trembling hands, taking a sip of the hot liquid inside it. It was hot chocolate. He almost laughed; he felt like a little kid. “What is he, then?”

“He’s…” he tried, memories fading away. “I saw him.”

“When you looked at his victim,” Hannibal completed.

“No, I saw _him,_ ” Will replied. “Years ago. I saw him, and I understood him,” he shuddered at the memory. It felt warmer than the cup between his hands. “I don’t see him now. I need to see him, I _need_ –“

“Will,” Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder, the other one pressed to his forehead. “Why were you outside, naked?”

“I wasn’t naked,” he frowned “Not completely.”

“It’s freezing outside, and you were out there in only your underwear. Why.”

His tone sounded demanding; he was ordering Will to answer. Something inside him trembled at the command.

“I… I don’t know, I was in my room. In _your_ room,” he corrected himself “And then I… I saw it. The man, back at Wolf Trap, and,” he drew a deep breath in “And I saw _him._ ”

“You saw the killer.”

“I saw him killing me,” he replied “Like I was the one whose face was being torn apart.”

“And what did you see?”

“I saw what he felt for me,” he muttered, his voice beginning to break “I saw how he saw me. Like a pig.”

Hannibal hummed. “Will, I am going to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest with me. Okay?” Will nodded. “You not presenting,” he started “Was it the only reason why they wouldn’t let you study what you wanted?”

Will looked down at the mug between his hands. 

“They’re pretty strict when they accept unpresented students, you know,” he said, voice barely a whisper “Back then, there was still a chance I would be just a beta, so it wasn’t really that big of a deal. But,” he shrugged “Strict procedures.”

“They thought you were unstable.”

Will nodded slowly. “They said I had to get some tests done before I could properly be considered,” he grimaced at the memory “And then, I was back at a therapist’s office. And I was rejected, as always. So I just… gave up on it. Never even tried again.”

“Even when you could have been just a beta.”

“But they _know_ , you know?” his jaw clenched. “They know that there’s something wrong with you. It’s like they could smell it.”

“Betas usually give off a faint smell, even before fully presenting as betas,” Hannibal nodded. “I must admit, I was quite insistent about you being on suppressants, not only because I thought other meds could interfere,” he paused for a moment “My sense of smell is quite acute,” he confessed. “I can still smell Omegas, even when they’re under suppressants. The smell is barely there, but the slight sweetness scarcely remains.”

“And you smelt nothing on me.”

Hannibal nodded. “Nothing at all. Just the coppery scent of blood; nothing else. I wondered if they had finally made a suppressant effective enough to block the scent, even from me.”

“You’re a psychiatrist,” Will remembered. “Are you really allowed to just reject a patient because of their nature?”

“There are those who choose not to treat Omegas, yes,” he said. “Therefore, I assume there must be those who would choose not to treat an unpresented person.”

“But why? Isn’t it easier? I don’t present the threat an Alpha does, nor the potential seduction of an Omega,” he sighed. “I’m as neutral as any fucking beta. I don’t get it.”

Hannibal pondered on Will’s words before answering. “Your gender has several implications on your mental state,” he said, “On the way you think. It might be harder to understand someone who’s not defined by that.”

Will didn’t add anything to that, considering it. Would he really be any different from how he was now, had he presented as an Omega? As a Beta? As an Alpha? He just couldn’t see himself changing; not for hormones, not for anything. The essence of his self would always remain. He didn’t understand what Hannibal meant.

But then again, how could he? He would never know the difference.

His head started hurting. They fell into a tense silence.

“You mentioned organs,” Hannibal said, carefully. Will looked at him just for a second, before turning his gaze down. His eyes hurt when he moved them. “You seem to know quite a deal about this killer. I would advise you to talk to the police, but it might not be a good idea,” he paused. “Would you consider talking to someone else?”

“Like who?”

“Anyone. I’m afraid I am compelled to care after you while you’re in this state; therefore, I can’t go to the police myself,” he explained. “They would most likely ask about you, and I don’t want them to take you away.”

Will chuckled at that. “Why not?” he asked, tone sneer. “You wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Hannibal gave him what seemed like a sad look before replying. “I am not dealing with you,” he assured him, sincerity in his light-brown eyes. “I have insisted on you staying here, because I believe you might be ill.”

“And you think I’m so poor I can’t afford meds.”

“Can you?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow at him.

Will snorted. “Does it matter? I feel fine. I’m not ill.”

“Just yesterday, you blacked out,” Hannibal reminded him, voice severe. “And you’ve lost sense of time and space, today.”

“It might be just a cold,” Will shrugged. “Have you looked at me? I’m weak; even a cold would bring me down.”

“Which is why I insist on you staying here.”

“Fine,” Will sighed. “Who should I talk to?”

“Someone you trust,” Hannibal said, standing up from his seat on his chair. “Someone who can tell the police about it, who can tell your story,” he looked at Will for a moment before turning around. “I will go buy some aspirins. I’ll let you think about it while I’m gone.”

Will saw him walk out by the glass door in front of the table, and then he stood up. He almost fell down back to his chair, but he supported himself on the table and, taking a deep breath in, he walked away from the dining room.

It didn’t take him long to admit to himself he only knew where the kitchen was. He reluctantly sat in front of the stainless table, and stared at something Hannibal had left there. A tablet. Why would that man leave a tablet at his kitchen?

Will didn’t think too much about it; he grabbed it, the bright light coming from it making his eyes hurt for a moment.

 _Tattlecrime.com_ , he read at the page that had been left open. He clicked the word _about_ , and read all about the person running the page. He hesitated for a second when he found an email, deciding whether or not he should send anything. He didn’t even have an email himself. He wondered if he could use Hannibal’s.

He opened another window and went straight to mail, relieved when he saw Hannibal’s account was left open.

‘ _I may have information about a killer you write about._ ’

He wrote, not so sure if they even wrote about that man. He sent it and deleted all evidence from it as quick as he could, before he could regret it.

A reply notification popped up barely a minute after.

‘ _Which one?_ ’

Will didn’t know what to reply.

‘ _The one with the organs._ ’

This time, the reply took five minutes to arrive.

‘ _I want to meet with you._ ’

And an address.

Will deleted all the messages as quickly as he managed, when he heard a door being opened. He left the tablet where he’d found it, and almost ran back to the dining room. He sat besides the head of the table, trying to calm his breath, the address printed in his memory.

“I want to talk to someone,” he said as soon as Hannibal entered the room.

“Very well,” he replied, placing a paper bag over the table. He got a bottle of pills out of it and handed it to him. “May I come with you?”

Will doubted for a second before taking the pills. “Yeah, sure.”

*

Her crystal clear eyes narrowed as soon as Will sat in front of the redhead. 

“Hannibal Lecter, I presume,” she extended her hand to him. “I’m Freddie Lounds.”

Will shook his head, looking at the extended hand. “I’m Will Graham.”

The extended hand was folded back to Lounds’ side. “What a misleading way of arranging a meeting,” she commented. “But then again, I guess you shouldn’t trust any freak over the internet,” the smile directed at Will seemed anything but kind.

“Freak?” Will repeated. “Are you going to dismiss my information over just that, Miss Lounds?” his eyes narrowed, as he took in the scent of the Alpha in front of him.

 _No_. Not quite an Alpha.

Will could detect the hint of a flowery perfume. He had to bite back a smile.

“Oh, I’m not that kind of person,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t dismiss you just because of your nature, Mr. Graham,” his name said with a mocking tone.

Will smiled. “What can you tell me about the killer?”

“I was wondering what _you_ could tell me,” Freddie countered. “Haven’t you read the articles? The Chesapeake Ripper is all over the news.”

“The Chesapeake Ripper,” he echoed. “I wasn’t aware he had a nickname.”

“They all have,” she replied. “I’m guessing you know why they call him the Ripper.”

Will nodded. “For how long has he been active, now?” he tried to sound secure, like he knew what he was talking about. Freddie’s defensive pose gave him the confidence he needed to keep his façade from faltering.

“Last time he killed was almost two years ago,” she said. “Of course, before now. He kills in groups of three, so a second and a third body are expected to be found. I assume you were the one who found the body at Wolf Trap.”

Will hummed. “Why three?”

“Nobody knows,” Freddie raised her eyebrows. “Maybe he just likes the number.”

“What else do you know about him?”

“He’s a surgeon, of course. Or someone with anatomical knowledge. He’s a sadist, and quite a theatrical one,” Freddie smiled. Will felt like they were talking about the weather, or about the taste of the coffee they should have been ordering by now. The redhead in front of him didn’t act like she was talking about a serial killer. “What do you know about him, Mr. Graham?”

“I know he’s an Alpha,” he answered, eyes lost in the wall behind the woman. “He sees his victims as pigs, sees them unworthy of their organs. Of their lives.”

Freddie nodded slowly, taking the words in. “Looks like you understand him quite well,” she said, her tone implying something Will couldn’t quite get. “Is Hannibal Lecter your Alpha?” she questioned, changing the subject.

Will would have asked her why she thought that, had he not smelled the Alpha entering the coffee shop. He saw Lounds stand up. He turned to look at Hannibal, whose gaze was focused on the redhead. 

“Hannibal Lecter, I presume,” Freddie smiled, extending him a hand. Hannibal took it. “Guess talking time is over,” she said, looking to Will. “Your Alpha’s here for you.”

“Quite a pleasure, Miss Lounds,” Hannibal said, a hand over Will’s shoulder. Will stood up, looking at him, confused. Why hadn’t he denied it? Why couldn’t Freddie smell the nothingness in him? “It’s a shame we can’t all chat for a bit longer. I’m afraid Will and I have matters to attend.”

“Of course,” the fake Alpha smiled. “We’ll be in touch,” he said to Will, handing him a card, which Hannibal took.

“Let’s go, Will.”

Will walked out, Hannibal’s hand over his lower back guiding him back to his car. The danger he smelled on the air made him feel uneasy.

*

“I believe I asked you to talk to someone you trust.”

 _Finally_ , Will wanted to say. They had been silent all the way back, didn’t even exchange a word as they both sat in Hannibal’s dining room. Will didn’t even feel afraid of the anger in Hannibal’s dark eyes anymore; he just felt expectant, wondering what Hannibal would be mad about.

“I don’t trust many people, you know,” Will replied. “And she wrote about the killer. I thought she’d know more about him.”

“She’s a tabloid journalist. Quite a distasteful woman; not worthy of trust,” Hannibal said, voice filled with disgust. “What did you tell her?” he asked, tone accusing. 

“Well, I didn’t tell her you were my fucking Alpha,” he snapped, his anger dying as soon as it arose at the danger in the Alpha’s eyes. He gulped, short to apologizing, biting it back.

“You were wearing my coat.”

“What?” Will looked down to himself. He saw the long sleeves hanging from his hands. “I didn’t… I don’t remember–“

“I gave it to you before you got out of the car, but you were in such a hurry you didn’t even process it,” he explained. “I was hoping she would think you were an Alpha. I was wrong, evidently.”

“So you knew I was talking to her,” Wil accused, frowning at Hannibal.

“I didn’t,” he calmly answered. “I merely thought you might want to carry the smell with you. It could have helped you feel more confident.”

Will knew he was lying, but didn’t say anything about it. He clenched his jaw. “Well, it just made me look like your pet.”

“An Omega is not a pet, Will.”

“Well, they might as well be,” he almost yelled. “All they do is lay back and take you, Alphas, in, don’t they? Never say a word, never act for themselves; they’re just your fucktoys.”

Hannibal stood up, his tall figure looming over Will’s frail one. He gulped, feeling the need to crawl up into a ball. But the man merely put a hand over his shoulder, which almost made Will jump out of his skin.

“Why do you feel such contempt towards Omegas, Will?”

He looked at the hand on his shoulder, unable to look up at the Alpha. He felt sweat roll down his back, down his neck, everywhere. He felt sick again. “I don’t know,” he whispered.

Hannibal sighed, and took his hand away from Will. He sat back in front of him. “You didn’t answer my question, Will; What did you tell her?”

“I…” Will felt nervous. He didn’t want to look at Hannibal, didn’t want to be in the same room as him. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to go away. “I told her he was an Alpha,” he answered. “I told her what I told you.”

“What else?”

Will tried to think. His mind was starting to drift away from him, his thoughts escaping him. “I told her my name,” he mumbled.

“You contacted her on my name,” he said. “Why?”

“I didn’t…” he stuttered, “I didn’t mean to. I just sent her an email, with your tablet. I didn’t think she would think it was you. I wasn’t thinking…”

Suddenly, a hand was over Will’s knee. He shrank away from the touch, but it followed him. His breath got caught on his throat. He genuinely felt sick. 

“Calm down, Will. Breathe.”

He wanted to breathe. He wanted to, he really did, but the smell of the Alpha wasn’t really helping him; it was making him dizzy, making him want to throw up and run away. He took short breaths in, closing his eyes, trying to focus on not blacking out again.

Hannibal’s hand pressed against his forehead. “I think you have a fever, Will. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he panted. “No, actually, no, no,” he was going to faint again. He held onto the touch of Hannibal’s hand to hold him down to reality, to consciousness. “I feel like I’m going to pass out again.”

“I believe your body might be struggling with a late heat. Perhaps, even a rut. Your body has supressed presenting for long enough, Will. It has been most likely caused by trauma,” he could barely understand what the doctor was telling him anymore, could only hear the faint whisper of his voice. “You’re repressing it, Will. Let go. Do you hear me?”

He didn’t. He blacked out.

*

He knew how he looked.

He could see himself, see the way he looked. Dirty, messy curls. Blood-stained face, as well as clothes. The cold handle of the knife against his hot hand. The emotionless expression he bore as his victim suffered under him. As the _pig_ under him struggled to escape from his iron grip.

He buried the knife into the pig’s closed mouth, forcing it in, dragging it along its cheek, drawing a smile on its pig face. He saw it convulsing, drowning on its own blood, as he watched with a satisfied look on his face.

He suddenly realized the knife was gone from his hand. 

“Will?”

He looked down at his bloody hands, Hannibal’s voice bringing him back to reality.

He looked at the dead body under him. He looked around him, and didn’t recognize where he was.

Why was he there, again?

Where was he, again?

 _Who_ was he, again?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some gory descriptions ahead, and a couple of slurs.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Hannibal…” he whispered, losing balance. He fell on his ass, his hands going behind him to try and stand up, failing miserably. He crawled away from the bloody corpse, swallowing around a dry throat.

Hannibal helped him stand up, steadying him against his torso when Will’s legs gave up under him. “Will?”

“Did I…?” he muttered, his hands weakly raising to hold to Hannibal’s shirt, staining the white material with dark blood. He didn’t dare look back at the body, focusing instead on Hannibal’s chest.

He felt a hand caressing his hair, soothing him, the other one holding him by the waist. He trembled, squeezing his eyes shut, hiding his face on Hannibal’s neck, inhaling his scent to calm himself down.

“Let’s go home,” the doctor said, his motions never stopping. Will tried to tell him he couldn’t walk, he couldn’t feel his legs, but he didn’t manage to pull away from the embrace. The words got stuck in his throat. He didn’t protest when Hannibal raised his body over his shoulder, didn’t make a sound as he got carried to the man’s car.

He felt too tired to try and fight back the man’s gentle actions, carrying him out of the car and into the house, up the stairs, to an enormous bathtub. He closed his eyes when warm water surrounded him, and let Hannibal clean the blood away.

“You ran away this morning,” Hannibal started telling him as he rinsed Will’s hair. “I couldn’t stop you. You ran to that abandoned warehouse.”

Hannibal’s accented voice was doing little for keeping him awake. He felt so relaxed, so calm, the blood and the dead man only an unimportant thought at the back of his mind.

“Will?” Hannibal’s hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up, forcing Will to look into the man’s worried eyes.

“Did I kill him?” he muttered, his eyes closing on their own account.

There was silence before Hannibal said anything again. He resumed rinsing Will’s hair, his fingers tracing circles in his skull, relaxing him. “No,” he finally said, “No, you just found him there.”

“But I had…” he tried to say. “His blood was all over me. I saw myself killing him.”

“You did touch him,” Hannibal said. “But you didn’t kill him.”

“I need to go back,” he said, attempting to stand up from the bathtub. Hannibal’s hands on his shoulders stopped him. “I need to–“

“You shouldn’t go back there, Will. It’s not good for you.”

“But I need to–“

“You can’t, Will.”

“Please,” he looked into the man’s eyes, pleading. “Please, Hannibal.”

His jaw tensed before he nodded. “Only if I go with you.”

Will nodded, allowing his eyes to close again as Hannibal poured water over his head.

*

The air was tense around them as Hannibal drove them back to the warehouse. Will could feel Hannibal didn’t agree with this, but he said nothing. He looked out to the window to try and ignore the Alpha. He didn’t even say a word when they arrived; he just parked the car, and walked around it to open Will’s door.

“Thanks,” he muttered, gaze fixed on the ground.

Both men walked inside the warehouse, the familiar smell of blood invading their senses even before seeing the body.

Will inhaled deeply as he saw the bloody corpse, closing his eyes for a moment to try and steady himself. When he felt stable enough, he opened them, walking towards the man.

“It looks like he was burned,” Will muttered, examining the man’s skin. “His feet are back-to-front.”

“He wasn’t burned,” Hannibal interjected, stepping beside Will, examining the body. “This looks like a disease.”

“Well, he didn’t die of disease,” Will said, pointing at the man’s face. Or what was left of it. “He…” he looked away, shaking his head. “He probably drowned in his own blood.”

“There’s something in his neck,” Hannibal said, pointing towards it. Will couldn’t quite bring himself to look. “He wasn’t left like this.”

“No,” Will snorted bitterly. “He was there, probably,” he pointed to a box a feet away from the man’s head, stained with blood, close to the wall. “I dragged him when I…”

Hannibal nodded. “Do you recognize this, Will?” 

Will forced himself to see where Hannibal pointed. A circle carved into the man’s neck. He gulped. The circle surrounded a symbol; a Greek letter.

Will looked away, but he only managed to look to the corpse’s half-face.

“Can we…” he tried to say, voice broken. He gulped before trying again. “Can we go now?”

Hannibal was looking at the bent feet. He looked back at Will, frowning. “Why did you want to come?”

“Can we go now?” he repeated, slightly higher. Hannibal stood up, stepping into Will’s personal space. He felt dizzy. 

“Is anything wrong, Will?”

He only nodded, closing his eyes. Tears were threatening to fall down his face.

“What is it?” he felt Hannibal’s hand against his cheek, caressing. He whimpered, bracing himself. He shook his head. “Tell me.”

Will tried to take a deep breath in, but he almost choked on it. A sob escaped his lips before he could help it. “That’s…” _That’s the therapist who beat me_. “Please,” he begged. “Please, take me away.”

He didn’t fully register his legs moving, nor the movement of the car. He was barely conscious of his surroundings when they arrived to the doctor’s house.

He felt something being wrapped around him, something warm. He took a deep breath in; it smelled like Hannibal. He smiled softly, wrapping it around him tighter. 

“Will? Do you feel better now?” he managed to nod. “Will you tell me what happened? Was it too much again?”

“The Chesapeake Ripper,” he muttered. “Freddie said there’d be at least two more bodies. Guess I found the second one.”

Hannibal nodded. “Are you sure it’s him?”

“It has to be,” he pressed his knees to his chest, realizing he was on a sofa next to the man’s bed. “It felt like him.”

“Why did you want to go?”

“Therapist,” he replied instead. At Hannibal’s puzzled look, he added: “The therapist who beat me,” he gulped. “It was him.”

“Are you sure, Will?”

He nodded. “He thinks I’m an Omega,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “He knows me,” he pushed his knees harder against his chest. “He knows me.”

“Why would he think that? Why does he know you?”

“I don’t know!” he screamed desperately. “I don’t… I don’t know. I…” he let himself be pulled against the Alpha’s chest. He clutched his shirt, hiding his face against his chest.

 _He wants to mate me_ , he thought, remembering the symbol. The omega letter trapped in a circle, like a collar around his neck. He shuddered at the thought, pushing his face harder against the Alpha’s chest.

“He wants to own me,” he said instead, trying to steady his voice. 

“He loves you.”

Will shuddered. “I need to find him.” 

Hannibal’s arms tightened around him. “I won’t let you go after a killer, Will.”

“You don’t own me,” he replied, pushing away from the man’s embrace. He only managed to get away enough to look at Hannibal’s face. “I need to find him, Hannibal.”

“Why?” he said, caressing Will’s hair. “Stay here with me instead. Don’t go after him.”

Will looked at the Alpha’s smile, feeling his own form with it. It felt so natural, so… meant to be, when he leaned in to kiss him. It barely lasted a second, but Will’s whole body shivered with it. When they separated, Hannibal was smiling at him.

“You know, I’m not an Omega,” Will muttered, not sure what else he should say. “We can’t…”

“I know you aren’t,” Hannibal interrupted him. “It won’t stop me from wanting this.”

Will laughed softly, feeling his face turn hot from embarrassment. “From wanting what?”

“You,” Hannibal replied, kissing Will’s forehead, standing up. “It’s late now; you must be hungry. I’ll prepare dinner.”

Will smiled at him, watching him walk out of the room.

*

When it got completely dark and Will was supposed to be sleeping, he got out of his (or Hannibal’s) bed, thanking the Alpha’s politeness for stopping him from sleeping with Will.

He ventured out of the bedroom, walking around the house until he was able to get to the kitchen. He looked around, hoping the tablet would be somewhere there. When he didn’t find it, he retreated towards the dining room, thinking what to do next.

He wished he had Freddie’s card, but Hannibal never gave it to him. He didn’t know where he’d keep it; maybe he had even thrown it away already. He got up and walked to the entrance opposite to the kitchen’s, finding himself in the living room. He wasn’t so sure what he would do now; should he head back home? He didn’t want to leave, but he had to find the Ripper.

He wasn’t so sure why, but he _had to_.

He decided he had to go. He’d get someone to give him a ride, hitchhike his way to Wolf Trap, somehow. As soon as he opened the door, he decided he needed more clothes if he wanted to survive the cold night.

He looked around, but found nothing. There was nothing in the kitchen either, nor in the dining room. Back in his room, he only found Hannibal’s overcoat in the sofa where he’d been sitting. He took it, putting it on, feeling like a kid wearing his dad’s clothes.

He ventured back to the living room, and was about to leave, when he heard footsteps behind him, coming from the dining room. He froze in his place, not so sure what he should do. How would he explain Hannibal he was leaving? How mad would he be?

He relaxed when he heard nothing. Then, a loud thump broke the silence. A small groan, another thump, and then nothing. Will felt blood rushing down his body, to his legs. Even so, he couldn’t move. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps once more that he was able to.

He turned around, pressing his back against the door, trying to distinguish the dark shape in front of him. The air smelled of something Will couldn’t quite place, like an Alpha’s scent, but… stranger. Stronger, a smell that made him feel scared. He hoped for a second it was just Hannibal, but it didn’t quite smell like him. No; Hannibal’s soothing scent was nothing like the charged air surrounding him.

He gulped, and almost whimpered, when the dark shape moved towards him. Just a step, Will pressing himself harder against the door, his hand fidgeting with the doorknob. 

His breath hitched when he caught a glimpse of the man’s dark eyes. It was barely a second, but Will recognized the darkened eyes immediately.

“The Ripper,” he muttered, biting back a scared scream when the Alpha gave another step towards him.

Had he killed Hannibal? Oh, God, that’s what those sounds were, back in the dining room, weren’t they? Hannibal was dead. His Alpha was dead. Another desperate whimper escaped him as the other Alpha stepped closer.

“I – I’m not an Omega,” he managed to mutter, biting his lip so he wouldn’t scream.

There he was, in front of him. The man he had so many questions for. Yet he couldn’t speak. The Alpha’s scent was making him dizzy, his legs wanting to give up under him.

What would he say, anyway? Why was he so insistent about finding him? He was in front of him now, and Will didn’t know what to do. He was so stupid. So, so stupid. He should have stayed in his room. That way, maybe the Ripper would have found him easily, and Hannibal wouldn’t have had to go down to see what was going on, and he would still be alive.

The killer raised a hand slowly, and Will flung the door open in a second, running as fast as he could, away from the house.

He ran until his legs ached, until he fell onto the snow, tired. The sole thing that drove him to get up and keep on running was the angry smell behind him, forcing him to keep on going.

He hid in an alley, breathing shallowly. His hands were freezing, and so were his ears. He hid the first ones in the big pockets of the overcoat, trying to concentrate on the smell that lingered to the fabric.

His hand touched something. A dollar? He pulled it out.

**Fredricka Lounds.  
Journalist.**

An address, an e-mail, and a number.

He searched in all of the pockets he could find, half-expecting to find a phone somewhere. He only found a twenty-dollar bill and coins. 

Silently, he walked ‘til he could peek out from the alley, sighing with relief when he saw no one was following him anymore. He took a deep breath in, trying to identify the Ripper’s scent, but he could only smell Hannibal.

Breathing in, he walked away from the alley and back to the streets, looking around, trying to find either the killer or a public phone. He found the latter two blocks ahead from the alley, and he ran towards it, his hands trembling around the phone and the coins. He dialed the number in the card.

“ _Hello?_ ” a tired voice replied after the fourth ring. 

Will gulped, trying to make his voice sound steady. “I saw him.”

“ _Who’s this?_ ”

“Will,” he paused, “Will Graham.”

“ _Oh, Doctor Lecter’s boy,_ ” had he been calm enough, he would have yelled at her. Right now, he found he didn’t have the energy to do so. “ _You saw who?_ ”

“The Ripper.”

“ _Where?_ ”

“I…” he didn’t know how to explain anything. “We need to meet. Now.”

A sigh. “ _It’s two in the morning. Wait until tomorrow._ ”

“Wait! Don’t hang. We need to meet now. I just saw him.”

“ _How? Why? Where?_ ”

“Let’s discuss that in person.”

A long pause before she replied. “ _Meet me at the same coffee shop in half an hour. I’ll wait by the entrance. We can go somewhere else from there._ ”

“Ok. Half an hour.”

*

By the time he arrived, covered in sweat despite the cold, the redhead was already there, looking at him with an exasperated look.

“Sorry,” he muttered as a greeting. “I ran.”

Freddie nodded. “I’m guessing Lecter’s the one who drives you around,” she motioned with her head towards a black car. Will nodded, following her into the car. 

He closed his eyes when the woman started the car, allowing himself to breathe.

“I’m not taking you to my apartment.”

Will looked at her. “I live in Wolf Trap,” he said. “Not so sure you wanna drive all the way to there.”

“It’s not that far, and there’s less traffic. It is three in the morning, after all,” she pursed her lips. “Don’t you live with your Alpha?”

Will snorted. “Is that more interesting than the fact that I saw the Ripper?”

Freddie shrugged. “We have a couple of hours to talk about anything,” she said, tone sneer. “But do tell me how you found him.”

“I didn’t find him,” Will replied, “He found me.”

“Why would he want to kill you?” she smiled mockingly. “I mean, no offense, but he usually kills Alphas or Betas. He’s killed an Omega just once.”

“Oh, yeah? When’s the first time he killed anyone?”

“You can never be sure,” she replied, “but he started at least three years ago. Four, tops.”

“Then there’s no way you could know if he’s killed just one Omega,” he snorted, looking out of the window. “He’s killed for at least ten years.”

“How would you know?”

“He killed my father,” he grimaced, “Ten years ago.”

“How could you be sure it was him?”

“Oh, it was him. I’m sure.”

“That’s what you meant when you said you saw him?”

“I did see him then,” he answered, “but I didn’t mean that. He was at Hannibal’s house. I think he’s dead.”

“Oh,” Freddie frowned. “Sorry about that.”

Will shrugged, trying not to think about it. “I’m assuming the second victim hasn’t been found.”

“There’s no second victim yet.”

“There is. I found it.”

“Why wasn’t it reported, then?” He didn’t reply. “Well, what did you find?”

“He knows me,” he murmured. “He killed the therapist who beat me up. He thinks I’m an Omega.”

Freddie gave him a puzzled look. Will tried to pretend he was focused on the snow outside. “Aren’t you?”

“I’m, uh…” he wasn’t so sure what to say. She would understand him, wouldn’t she? She was, after all, pretending to be an Alpha. “I meant an unmated one,” he said instead; Will couldn’t risk it.

Freddie nodded slowly. “We should go back,” she said, suddenly stopping the car. Will jumped in his seat. “We have to go after him.”

“Don’t be a fool,” he said, frowning. “He’s gonna kill us.”

“You’re going to die anyway,” Freddie smiled, turning the car around. “You know what happens to Omegas in heat who’ve lost their mates, right?”

“I could live on suppressants,” he shrugged. 

“Too late for that now, isn’t it?”

Will gave her a puzzled look, but didn’t push the subject forward. “Say we find him again. What’s your plan? Call the police? Threaten him with a gun?” he laughed. “He’s gonna snap your neck before you can even see his face.”

“Well, how did you survive? You saw him twice, didn’t you?”

“I just remember his eyes,” he said. “That’s how I recognized him, anyway.”

Freddie considered his words. “You said he was an Alpha,” Will nodded. “So you know his scent. Didn’t you recognize him by that?”

Will looked down to his hands, frowning. “I know I smelled his scent when I was a kid,” he said slowly, pausing. “I don’t think I remember his scent, though.”

“How could you forget such a thing, yet remember his eyes?” she snorted. “You’re making this up.”

“You know, he hasn’t been caught,” he replied, “I’d guess he’s smart enough to mask his scent. At least now.”

“He could be just a Beta, then.”

“Like you?”

Freddie looked at him for a second before her eyes returned to the road. “Didn’t think anyone would be able to tell it was fake,” she smiled bitterly. “Quite the sense of smell you got there.”

Will sighed. “I used to wear the same perfume,” he said. “Well, I just wanted to pass as a Beta, though. Never even crossed my head to pretend to be an Alpha.”

“You wouldn’t pass as one.”

He snorted. “I don’t think I’d pass as an Omega either.”

“Where does Lecter live, again?” Will told her to turn right the next street. “What do you mean by that?”

“Lecter wasn’t my mate,” he replied bitterly, signalling the redhead to turn left next. “I’m not an Omega.”

“Unpresented?” she asked, tone incredulous. Will nodded. “Bad time to present, then,” she smiled slyly.

“It probably would be a bad time any time,” he said. “I don’t think I’m ever presenting, though.”

“No, I’m saying you _are_. Now. Or, close to now.”

“I’m not. Turn here. It’s that house over there.”

Freddie parked opposite to the Alpha’s house. She looked at Will sympathetically, an almost honest smile on her face. “You smell like an Omega that’s about to go into heat,” she said, making it sound like she was telling Will he had cancer. In a way, it felt like that. “Pre heat,” she said before getting out of the car.

Will didn’t trust his legs to work, but he got out of the car anyway, following the redhead to Hannibal’s house. “He’s probably not here anymore,” he almost yelled, but Freddie didn’t seem to care. She rang the bell, patiently waiting for an answer Will knew wouldn’t come.

Except it did. An odd-looking Hannibal opened the door. Will hurried to Freddie’s side, his knees feeling weak when he saw Hannibal’s worried look.

“Will,” Hannibal said, sounding incredulous. He stepped forward, pulling Will into a tight embrace. “I thought he had kill you.”

Freddie cleared her throat. “Good evening, Doctor Lecter,” she greeted, smiling at the Alpha, whose embrace didn’t falter. “Glad to say I rescued your mate. Or, should I say, your future mate?”

Will pulled away from the embrace, noticing Hannibal had a cut in his forehead. “What happened?”

“We can discuss that later,” Freddie interrupted. “Could you show me the second victim now, please?”

*

They went back to the warehouse, but there was nothing there, not anymore, save for two photographs. Freddie took them.

“This one’s older,” she said, holding one of the photos up, the back of it facing Will and Hannibal. “I’m guessing it isn’t this guy’s head,” she turned the newer photo around. It was the corpse they had found. “Hephaestus,” she smiled. “As theatrical as ever.”

“The god of fire and sculptures,” Hannibal said. “He was often depicted with crippled feet and a deformed face. Zeus forced Aphrodite to marry him, since he didn’t represent any threat because of his ugliness and deformity. Some believed his ugly appearance was meant to represent arsenicosis.” 

Freddie hummed. “He clearly didn’t die of arsenic poisoning,” she said.

“He may have poisoned him to make his skin look like that,” Will interjected, snatching the other picture out of Freddie’s hands. “He was–“

He dropped the picture.

“Will?”

“It’s older alright,” he muttered. “That’s – That’s my father.”

“He beheaded your father?”

“They never found his head. Nor his lungs, but I don’t think he kept those around,” he felt a shiver run down his spine, closing his eyes as a sharp pain started making his head throb.

_His headless body seemed to be looking back at me, threatening me, even though I knew he could no longer beat me. Waiting for the police to come, I was afraid his fist would tighten around what had to be a couple of my dark locks. I raised my hand to my head, but my curls were a mess; there was no way of knowing if anyone had cut some of my hair._

He didn’t want to remember. He shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly, biting back a scream.

_I knew why he did it. When he looked at me, and I smelled him, I knew he was protecting me. I knew he wanted to free this world from my father’s pathetic existence. I knew he wanted to set me free._

_When his dark eyes looked back at me, I felt calm. His scent was so soothing, so enticing. I wanted to go downstairs just to hide my face in his neck, just to smell him._

No, no, no. He had to stop. A tear ran down his face, and he bit his tongue harder.

_I thought, back then, I would never find myself an Alpha who smelled like that. No other scent could ever make me feel what his did. My dad would be proud; his little boy would never turn into a whore Omega. Too late for that, anyway. He couldn’t beat my stomach anymore._

_But even if I were to present, I knew I would never find someone so enticing as the killer downstairs. And I felt sad when he told me he wouldn’t kill me too._

_“Not tonight,” he had said, going away, his scent abandoning me forever. I never smelt anything like that again, until…_

“Will?” Hannibal’s hand on his shoulder almost burned him.

“You,” he whispered, looking up slowly, almost afraid to find the Alpha’s gaze. _The Ripper’s gaze._ “You’re him.”

“What do you mean he’s him? He’s who?”

“Will…” his hand went to Will’s cheek, and he couldn’t take it anymore. His whole body gave up, and he fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I think we all know what comes next.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I mentioned last chapter we all knew what was next, and I realized – Perhaps it isn’t that obvious. So, warning: Will goes into heat. I’m gonna put some other warnings at the end notes, so you might wanna check them out before reading this.
> 
> These are just two and a half thousand words worth of porn lmao
> 
> Enjoy! (with caution)

Next time he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. He felt bitter, about opening his eyes, about being alive. If he thought he had felt sick before, he had no clue. His head was killing him, every single muscle in his body felt like it was being torn apart. Every breath he took made his lungs ache. Every bright light made him want to go back to the darkness he was in just moments ago. His stomach felt like it was on fire.

When he tried to focus his gaze, all he was able to recognize was the whiteness of the Alpha’s ceiling. He inhaled sharply, the scent around him sending a painful stab of pain through his bowels.

He tried to stand up, every muscle yelling at him for it. His legs were seconds away from giving up under him, his head threatening to explode at any moment. He tried to walk towards the door, tried to get away.

What was happening to him?

He wished he hadn’t opened that door. He wished he would have stayed on that bed, to die from the pain. He wished Hannibal had killed him when he'd found out. 

Freddie was sitting in front of the piano he had seen before. Will tried to call her name, but he soon realized she wasn’t there. Maybe she was dead, or just unconscious. Either way, she didn’t seem to be moving. Will looked around, to find Hannibal standing a few feet away from the door to his room, looking at him.

If Will had thought the scent in the sheets was painfully strong, he had no idea; with Hannibal a few feet from him, the scent became unbearably strong. Will felt like he was going to drown, as though the scent could take physical form and disembowel him.

He tried to call the man’s name, but all he managed was to mutter a strangled “ _Alpha._ ”

Hannibal didn’t reply; he simply looked at him, with his darkened eyes, and Will realized he was holding something. The glimpse of shiny metal almost made him scream; he just moaned, as Hannibal walked towards the redhead, grabbing her by the hair to make her stand up.

“She’s paralyzed,” Hannibal explained. “I drugged her. She won’t be able to move, nor to scream. She will still feel this,” he raised the scalpel to the redhead’s eyes. Will saw her eyes fill with terror.

“Why,” he tried to ask, his voice sounding awfully weak, “Why are you doing this?”

“You’re suppressing your heat, Will,” Hannibal explained calmly, an arm surrounding Freddie’s shoulders, holding her against his chest. “You have to let go. _Give in._ ”

Will trembled at the command. He looked at Hannibal as he placed the scalpel against the woman’s neck, then back at Freddie’s horrified look. As the scalpel cut her throat and she bled out, Will felt something inside him click. Horrified, he looked back at Hannibal, his dark gaze cutting deep into Will’s brain.

He felt something slippery sliding down his thighs. He had to bite his tongue not to scream at the feeling.

As the last drop of life in Freddie’s body left her, Hannibal threw her away, next to the piano. “Good,” he praised, walking towards Will in long strides.

Will pressed his body against the now-closed door behind him, shaking his head frantically. “No, no,” he desperately muttered. “No, please…”

Hannibal’s chest pressed against his, his scent surrounding him entirely. Will felt his knees go weak, his body yelling at him to just give in. He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head, squirming away from Hannibal’s body, the pain in his guts increasing every second he stood there without touching the Alpha.

Hannibal slowly raised a hand to Will’s face, cupping his cheek, staining his face with blood. Will moaned at the cold feeling against his skin. “What do you want, Will?”

Will almost cried at the question. His body ached for Hannibal, his biology screaming at him to just let go and let the Alpha mount him and mark him. He shuddered at the thought.

“Please,” he murmured, his breath hitching as Hannibal pressed himself closer to Will. He could feel the Alpha’s erection against his hip, could smell the arousal in his scent. “ _Please,_ ” he repeated, not so sure what he was asking for.

He _hated_ this, he hated his body for doing this. He knew this is what his father had warned him about. This is what he meant when he told him he didn’t want his son to become a _whore_. Omegas were all whores, their heats turning them into greedy little things, so desperate to be filled, to be dominated. He had forgotten about it; had forgotten about all the times his father had punched him in the stomach till he vomited blood, to prevent this from happening. 

Hannibal’s eyes appeared in his mind’s eye then, calming him down slightly. He remembered how happy he had felt when he saw him, how calm. He knew what had happened. He knew the Alpha had freed him from his awful father.

And then he had turned away. Will’s wounds had healed, he had forgotten about all the abuse his father had shouted at him; yet _he_ was gone. He had left him there, alone, to deal with his own life.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he cried, slowly opening his eyes. “Don’t you dare… Don’t you dare…”

“Will,” Hannibal called again, “Your heat will take over soon, and you will no longer be in control. Tell me now. What do you want.”

“I want…” he tried. His breath got caught in his throat, as he struggled to think. “I…”

He knew what he wanted. The second he realized his Alpha had come back for him, to claim him, he knew. The second Hannibal had kissed him back, that one time that seemed so far away now, he knew. He no longer had to be conflicted about who to choose. He no longer had to worry about not being able to make them stay. To make _him_ stay. Nature had provided him with a solution at just the right moment.

He had nothing to worry about, not now. He didn’t have to deny himself right now; he could blame nature later on.

“Take me,” he blurted out. “Take me, mate me, I don’t care, just–“ his hand raised slowly to rest on Hannibal’s shoulder. He knew, had he tried to push him away, he would have been too weak to do so. Instead, he pulled him closer. “Just don’t ever leave again. Please.”

The door behind him flung open in a second, Hannibal pushing him inside almost violently. Their lips met, desperate, a bruising embrace that felt just right. Hannibal pushed him back until the back of Will’s knees hit the bed. Then, he pulled away.

He intended to crawl up the bed, to present for his Alpha, but he stopped him, an iron grip on his wrist. “No,” he said against Will’s lips. “Just lay down.”

Will nodded, doing as he was told, Hannibal’s body straddling him short after. His strong hands caressed him over his clothes; his chest, his abdomen, his hips, his legs. Will was reminded of how _brutally_ those hands had treated Freddie; how Hannibal had not hesitated to cut her throat open.

He moaned against Hannibal’s neck, his hands clutching Hannibal’s shirt, his nails digging into his back. Hannibal started kissing down his neck, to his collarbones, his hands still caressing Will’s hips like he was the most fragile thing in the world. Will lifted his hips, desperate for contact, panting loudly as he grinded himself against Hannibal.

The Alpha groaned in response, biting down Will’s collarbone, drawing a few drops of blood. Will moaned desperately as he licked the little red dots away.

“God, please,” he begged, desperately grinding against Hannibal’s clothed erection. “Take me, _god_ , fill me up. Now. Please, Hannibal, _please_ , I –“

Hannibal grunted, his hands quickly tearing off Will’s shirt, exposing his flustered chest. He went after Will’s pants next, unfastening them violently, almost tearing them down Will’s legs, along with his underwear. Will moaned as the cold air of the room hit his heated skin.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Will moaned, nodding eagerly as he did as he was told. Hannibal kneeled between his legs, kissing down Will’s chest as his hands stroked Will’s thighs. He spread his legs further apart, his kisses now down Will’s hipbone. Will bit his lip so hard he drew blood when Hannibal’s fingers wandered down his entrance.

He whimpered as two fingers got inside him, spreading him open, feeling like too much and too little at the same time. “Hannibal,” he moaned, squirming in pleasure as Hannibal’s fingers worked him open, his mouth pressing kisses against his thighs, going up slowly, slowly, until “Oh, _fuck._ ”

The Alpha’s fingers were replaced by his tongue, slow, sensuous licks fucking into him. A hand went down to grab Hannibal’s hair before he could think of it, holding him in place. Hannibal answered with another slow thrust of his tongue, the slick licked away quickly replaced by more and more.

“Please,” Will whined, feeling as though he was going to implode out of need. He needed more, way more than just Hannibal’s tongue. He mewled, a finger invading him, fucking him along Hannibal’s tongue. “Hannibal,” he cried again. “Hannibal, please, take me, _please_ , I need you, _I need_ –“

Hannibal moved away, shushing him, climbing up Will’s body, kissing every bit of skin, savouring Will’s enticing scent, the taste of it making him groan against the Omega’s skin. “Turn around,” he commanded, “Present.”

Will complied happily, pressing his head against the pillow, lifting his ass up to display himself for his Alpha. He parted his knees even more, arching his back, looking over his shoulder to Hannibal, urging him with a look to just take him now.

Hannibal unfastened his own pants quickly, pulling himself out, stroking himself a couple of times before directing the tip to Will’s quivering entrance. He pushed in slowly, dragging a strangled moan out of Will, making him grip the pillow with force, his eyes shutting.

“Will,” he called when he was completely buried inside him. Will didn’t answer; he was too focused on the sweet feeling of being filled up, Hannibal’s cock stretching him impossibly open. “Will, open your eyes,” Hannibal repeated, a hand gripping Will’s curls, tugging gently, forcing him to obey.

“Mmm,” Will murmured, looking over his shoulder with half-lidded eyes, far too gone to care about the fact that he was staining the pillow with the blood Hannibal had smeared all over his cheek. If anything, the sight of it only made him more aroused, more eager to have Hannibal pounding into him. He tried to move his hips, to fuck himself with Hannibal’s cock, but a strong grip on his hips stopped him.

“Ask,” he ordered, his fingers digging into Will’s pale skin, bruising. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” Will asked, whimpering, trying to wiggle out of Hannibal’s grip.

“What do you want, Will?”

He sounded way too calm. Will almost felt pissed about it. He squeezed Hannibal inside him, making the Alpha moan. “You,” he whimpered. “I want you, I _need_ you. Please,” he squeezed again, loving the way Hannibal’s mouth fell open as a low groan escaped his lips. He could feel it, the need to plunge into him, to take him, to bite him. He moaned. “Move,” he demanded. “ _Please, Hannibal, fuck me,_ ” he begged, unable to stop the words falling from his mouth, desire taking over him.

Hannibal drew out, slamming back in with a hard thrust that made Will see stars.

“Oh, _god._ ”

“Say it again.”

Will whined. “Fuck me, _please,_ ” he repeated, voice filled with lust. He couldn’t help but blush at how needy he sounded. Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. All he could think of was _more_ , and _faster_ , and _please_. “Take me, please, I’m _yours._ ”

“Mine,” Hannibal repeated, savouring the word, drawing out again to thrust back in, hitting something inside Will, making him cry his name out. He did it again, and again, Will’s little moans and cries filling his ears. “Mine,” he repeated, pounding into Will, fucking him into the mattress. “You’re _mine._ ”

“Yes, yours,” Will cried, pushing back into Hannibal’s cock, impaling himself over and over, the heavy scent of Hannibal’s arousal making him dizzy. “ _Yours_ , Hannibal, I’ve always been – ngh, yours.”

In response, Hannibal wrapped his long fingers around the back of Will’s neck, pressing his face against the pillow, fucking into him impossibly hard, Will’s loud moans muffled by the pillow he was now biting. He pressed his chest against Will’s back, his hand going back to grab at his hip, mouthing over Will’s neck, the need to bite down incredibly strong.

“Do it,” Will urged him. “Bite me, mark me,” he could feel himself tightening against Hannibal, fire pooling in his guts, about to explode. “ _Hannibal,_ ” he begged again, feeling so, so close, Hannibal’s knot swelling, his thrusts never stopping.

He lapped at Will’s neck, baring his teeth as his knot pressed past the tight ring of muscles of Will’s hole, pushing deeper and deeper. He grazed his teeth against Will’s neck, the Omega screaming in pleasure at the tease. “ _Mine,_ ” he murmured once more against Will’s neck, thrusting harder into Will, his swollen knot completely buried into Will’s tight heat. He sank his teeth into Will’s neck, drawing blood, making the Omega moan loudly under him as he came, pleasure washing over him. Hannibal’s own orgasm followed close, making him sink his teeth deeper, clutching Will against his body as waves of pure pleasure drowned him along Will’s scent.

Will cried out at the feeling of Hannibal’s release inside him, squeezing, milking his orgasm out of him. He was panting heavily, eyes almost closed, looking over his shoulder to Hannibal’s pleasured expression. He let himself be thrown to his side, snuggling against Hannibal’s chest, sighing happily.

The overwhelming fever of heat left him for a moment, his mind clearing. The wound on his neck throbbed, and he raised a hand to touch it. Hannibal stopped him, grabbing his wrist, clutching him tighter against him, nuzzling Will’s neck.

“You…” Will murmured, feeling a bit overwhelmed as realization of it all sank heavily into him. “I… We’re –“ he couldn’t form coherent phrases. He knew he had asked for it, knew he had _begged_ for it. He couldn’t believe Hannibal had actually done it. “You bonded with me,” he finally said, the overwhelming need to cry suddenly taking over him. He pressed himself harder against his Alpha, seeking comfort in his scent, just slightly scared he would suddenly try to move away.

He sighed with relief when all Hannibal did was raise a hand to run his fingers through Will’s curls, massaging his skull, calming him.

“Do you regret this, Will?” he asked, voice low.

Will shook his head no. “Do you?”

“Never.”

Will smiled happily, closing his eyes, allowing himself to calm down. Whatever he had gotten himself into, he could deal with it later. Right now, he only cared about how good it felt to be one with Hannibal.

With the Ripper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- They have sex. Gory descriptions, minor death, slurs, mentions of past physical/mental abuse, and a slight murder kink ? I mean, Will’s heat is triggered by Hannibal cutting someone’s throat. And arguably, mildly dubious content, due to heat.
> 
> I’ve been drowning in work (I’m translating something – I got so sick of Word that by the time I could actually write something, I didn’t want to). So, an apology for not updating anything! It might still take me a while to update other stuff; I’ve got quite a tight deadline. 
> 
> So, are they happy from now on? Does Will just put up with Hannibal’s hobbies ‘cause he’s got a big dick? Find out next chapter! (?)
> 
> This was probably awful haha sorry
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Will's heat, he finally has to confront all that has happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is gory. I feel like I should put lots of warnings, but... Let's just say _Hannibal is Hannibal,_ particularly so in this chapter. And some other gory descriptions.
> 
> Memories are in italics, and since that bit might get a bit confusing, I'll clarify it a bit at the end notes.
> 
> Enjoy!

The past ten days had all been a blur of pleasure and blood. Will was only vaguely aware of it all because of the pleasant soreness running through his body, and because of the throbbing wound his neck bore, constantly reopened.

He had been half-asleep for a couple of minutes now, trying to get used to being back to earth, the fog of heat completely dissipating from his mind. He still felt too good, too satisfied to think properly. He was slowly becoming aware of the body hugging him, of the fingers caressing his skin, and of the soothing voice whispering into his ear words he couldn’t understand.

He had the vague feeling he was supposed to remember something important, but all he remembered was Hannibal’s accented voice. 

“…Probably tomorrow,” his voice continued. “We’ll still have to carefully monitor this, since it’s likely you’ll have another one soon, so I think tomorrow would be ideal.”

Will hummed an agreement, just to let Hannibal know he was listening. He didn’t know what the man was talking about, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“What do you think, Will?”

Will wriggled closer into Hannibal’s arms as all answer, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to think about this, he didn’t want to think about anything at all. He had the vague feeling, were he to start thinking, this peaceful feeling running through his body would leave him.

“Are you listening, Will?”

“Yes, Alpha,” he murmured, tone mocking. He felt Hannibal’s hand going to his torso, up his neck, to press two fingers down his neck lightly; a warning.

“I understand you might be exhausted,” he said, his fingers settling for caressing Will’s neck softly, “But this is important. Do I need to repeat it?”

“I’m half asleep,” Will mumbled, his own hand going up to cover Hannibal’s. He pressed down, forcing the caresses to turn into pressure to his neck. He felt his legs ache, reminding him he was too tired to try and do anything else for now.

“I will host a dinner party,” Hannibal informed him, pulling his hand away from Will’s neck, resting it on his hip, “on your behalf. Or rather, our behalf.”

“What? Why?”

“It will be tomorrow,” Hannibal ignored him. “It is quite likely you’ll go into heat again soon, since your body repressed it for quite a long time. Therefore, I think we should take this chance.”

“Chance?”

“Your heat is over, for now. The sooner we organize the party, the better. Sleep now, I will take care of everything.”

Will grunted as all response. He didn’t want to think at all. He closed his eyes, trying to wrap his Alpha’s arms around him tighter.

*

In the middle of all the people, with his head now clearer, Will finally realized what this all was about. With old, fancy women touching him everywhere, and elegantly-dressed men looking slightly disapprovingly at him, he understood he was having a presenting party. Oh no, not just that; he was being displayed as Hannibal’s new pet, to all of the members of the high society of Baltimore. The scar on his neck was what everyone was talking about, in hushed whispers.

“Such a waste,” he had heard someone whisper. “Such a thoroughly bred Alpha bonding with… with _that_ Omega.”

He wanted to feel stupid, to feel bad; but honestly, being owned like this was quite relieving. He was being displayed as just another one of Hannibal’s possessions, like he would display his newest painting, or even, his newest kill. A closed-fitting dark blue suit, his stubble gone and his hair combed back neatly, he was nothing more than another decoration in the mansion.

Sitting next to the head of the table, he wanted to laugh at the naivety of every guest calmly eating and complimenting Hannibal’s complex dishes. Will had never really bothered to wonder what The Ripper was doing with the organs; now he knew. It was hilarious, in its own dark way, seeing Hannibal’s prideful expression as everyone inadvertently ate their equals. By Hannibal’s look, Will guessed he didn’t even think of them as equals; not even of the ones sitting at his table right now.

Will smiled to himself, taking some of the heart tartare into his mouth. Sure, he was the little pretty Omega being displayed as Hannibal’s possession for everyone to see, nothing more than a toy; at least he surely wasn’t ending on Hannibal’s menu, unlike all of the guests here. Will was watching behind the veil, next to the monster himself; the rest of them could easily be reduced to nothing more than pigs had a situation call for it.

Hannibal directed him a warm glance, along with a little smile. Will smiled back, delighted by some dreamy sighs following the ridiculous display of affection. The irony of it all had him in an excellent mood. Everyone looked up at Hannibal, with his lavish suits and his perfect manners. Every beta, and even a couple of omegas looked at Will with eyes full of envy, wanting the loving Alpha all for themselves. Truly, Hannibal was a dream come true; he was rich, he was a loving partner, and he was certainly a genius. Will was the luckiest Omega in the world, being constantly spoiled with expensive suits and loving caresses. 

He knew what they all thought, so clear in his head, like a map.

He pressed his left hand to his inner thigh lightly, just to remind himself of how stupid the people around him were. Loving? Will would have laughed at their faces had he not been too amused with it all. The last ten days had left him with bruises everywhere. He would love to see their faces turning red, were he to tell them all the things Hannibal did to him; how he choked him as he took him, how he yanked his hair to force him to say filthy things, how he had made a full display of his force by constantly grabbing his thin little body to fuck into him until his hands left bruises. He would love to tell them, too, all the times he begged Hannibal to bite him again, just so he could feel his pointed teeth breaking his skin again and again.

He would have laughed so hard at the faces they would have made, had they known Hannibal had forced Will’s heat by cutting some woman’s throat open in front of him. He would have laughed at how much he enjoyed the sight of the blood, and the feeling of those same brutal hands handing him with such care at first, turning almost as brutal short after, at Will’s own request. He would have laughed at how much he wanted to see the look on Hannibal’s face once more as some other pig died by his hand.

He would have laughed, had he not suddenly felt ill about it all. His head started spinning, as another old lady put her hands on his shoulders.

“What a remarkable boy!” she exclaimed. Will eyed Hannibal’s slightly annoyed look. “Truly remarkable. I had never seen such a well-behaved Omega. So brilliant, too!”

Will smiled at the praise, absentmindedly. His mind went somewhere else, as the lady pressed his fingers into his shoulders, something in his brain clicking. There for a second, then gone. Hannibal holding him just like that, whilst Will looked down at the bloody corpse of the therapist who beat him, whispering words into his ear. Just a flash; a picture that shouldn’t have been. That had never happened, had it?

Will dropped his fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything. Was he eating that guy? Or was it Freddie, the only person who almost tried to help him? Or maybe it was the heart of the man back at Wolf Trap.

Why had there been a victim at Wolf Trap? Why had Will seen it? Why did he care, now? He knew all of this, somewhere in the back of his head. Why was he shocked now?

At Hannibal’s questioning look, he smiled and continued eating calmly. He remembered a similar look being directed at him the first night he stayed at this very place. _“How are you, Will?”_ Hannibal had asked him after bringing him more water. Will nervously eyed two syringes by the nightstand.

That had never happened, had it? Will had slept for almost two days straight, uninterrupted. Then, why had he felt so tired the next time he woke up?

He gulped, trying not to think about it. This whole situation didn’t seem as amusing now. He felt as though he truly belonged now, in the middle of all these people. Nobody was really fully aware of what Hannibal was, were they? Not even Will. Every single person here was a mindless pawn.

He inhaled sharply, determined to smile throughout the whole event, deciding to ignore whatever his mind was making up now.

*

_I can’t handle it,_ he thought to himself, his arms wrapping around his own body, desperately trying to cope. _I can’t, I can’t._

The party had been over for two hours now. He was supposed to be showering, but the water felt cold on his skin, even at the highest setting of temperature. Will had settled to curling up into a ball in a corner, rocking desperately, trying to calm himself down. The tears just wouldn’t stop, and neither would the awful headaches. The questions were even worse.

How had he found the warehouse where the second victim was? 

Why had he never recognized Hannibal’s scent?

Why had he killed his father, but not him?

How did he know the man who murdered the Wolf Trap victim had been the same man who murdered his father?

Why had he presented now?

_Why? How? Why? Why?_

His head just wouldn’t stop spinning.

Two knocks. “Are you alright, Will?”

He tried to cough to clear his voice. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m just tired. Can I stay here for a little longer?”

“Of course. I will be heading to bed now. Join me whenever you like.”

As soon as the footsteps went away, Will stood up and quickly got out of the shower he had been in for hours now, putting the same clothes he had worn for the dinner party. He hurried through the house in quick but silent steps, looking for the way out. On his way, he found the same coat he had worn the day he had looked for Freddie. He doubted a second before picking it up and putting it on; if he wanted to survive this night’s weather, he would have to wear it, even if Hannibal’s scent was still all over it.

He made sure Hannibal was nowhere around before he headed to the exit, opening it slowly so it wouldn’t make a sound. He would hitchhike his way back home, just like he had planned to do weeks ago. He would get away from there, even if it was the last thing he was doing. There was no way Hannibal knew exactly where he lived; Will never gave him the right address. 

He trusted he wouldn’t be found any time soon.

*

Back at home, after hours and hours of trying to convince anyone to give him a ride, the Sun seemed to be rising already. Will was curled up against a corner of his living room, the coat still wrapped tight around himself, trying to bring himself some comfort. He wished he would have adopted a dog before, although he knew he never did because the poor thing would’ve starved to death with Will’s non-existent income. 

He cried and cried, tears never stopping, his hands trembling from constantly raising them to clean his face as best he could. The scent around him only made him cry harder. How had he been such a fool? Why had he stayed there? Why had he allowed all of this to happen?

A desperate sob escaped him before he could stop it, echoing through the empty house. Will remembered his father had once rented this very same house, long ago. Those were happy times. Will tried to focus on the memories of his father teaching him how to fish, back when they still weren’t as poor and the risk of him being an Omega hadn’t occurred to them yet. He smiled fondly through the tears, finally finding some comfort in the house he now owned. It had been such a pleasant surprise, to find out he wouldn’t be left homeless after his father died; apparently, he had left this house to Will’s name.

_“Your father would have never been able to afford this house,”_ Hannibal’s voice echoed through his mind. Will squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to hide from the voice. _“He never owned it. He used to rent it.”_

“No, no, no,” he shook his head frantically, “No, shut up!”

_“Didn’t you ever wonder, Will, how had he been able to leave it for you?”_

“Shut up! Shut up,” he desperately repeated, his hands covering his ears, trying to silence his conscience. 

_Conscience?_ His own inner voice wondered. No, these were memories. But that had never happened. Hannibal had never told him that, had he?

_“I never planned to orphan you, Will,”_ the voice was now accompanied by a clear image. They were both curled up in bed, Hannibal still inside him, Will too tired to try and understand what his Alpha was telling him. _“I merely stumbled upon an unpleasant man, and decided it would be best to rid the world of his existence. I was a young man, back then. It never occurred to me he had a child,”_ the memory of the soft caress over his stomach following the words made him sad now, as though Hannibal had been expecting him to be able to bear children after all his body had been through. 

_“When I first saw you, your face was full of bruises. I remember thinking I should have made that man suffer more. It was too merciful of me to give him a quick death. I quickly arranged things so you would have some place to stay at. Your current house at Wolf Trap seemed the most appropriate; after several inquiries, I determined it was the only place not completely corrupted with awful memories of your father._

_“I never anticipated to care this way about you. I distanced myself, of course, even though I constantly wished I could contact you. I knew you were the only one who could ever see me. I knew you were dangerous, because of that. I had to maintain my distance so none of us would ever go through unnecessary risks._

_“Then I found you at that alley, beaten up, just like I had found you at your father’s house. I knew, in that instant, I would never be able to pull us apart. Despite it all, I am not able to separate what fate has put together.”_

A stab of pain went through Will’s abdomen. He hissed, pressing his knees to his chest tightly, trying to stop the pain. He prayed the pain didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

_“It might hurt for some time,”_ he remembered again. This time, Will saw himself on Hannibal’s bed, that first night he had stayed there. His sleeve had been rolled up, and one of the syringes was being pressed into his skin. _“There will be, of course, irreparable damage; you might never be able to become pregnant. But I assure you, the pain and the other complications will stop as soon as you go into heat.”_

_“I never expected you to understand me this deeply,”_ a continuation of the other memory interrupted the latter, _“To see me, and accept me, like this.”_

_“This will make you forget this all happened.”_

_“What are you doing?!”_

_“It’s alright, Will. You won’t remember this.”_

_“You were truly made for me.”_

_“This man deserved this. It was not difficult to locate him. He is the proof I will never allow anyone to touch you, Will.”_

_“Did you kill him?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“You understood much more than what I wanted you to understand. You saw deep into me, deeper than I intended to allow.”_

_“Do you want to know how I killed him?”_

_“I already know. You,”_ Will stepped closer to the body, _“made him drown in his own blood.”_

_“He should have never touched you.”_

_“I waited for you my whole life.”_

_“This is who you are, then. You seem to enjoy re-enacting my own crime.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Perhaps, then, you might enjoy to perform your own even more.”_

_“You accepted me because you were the same.”_

_“I don’t think I’m strong enough to kill anybody.”_

_“You are stronger than you think. Plus, you’re not alone.”_

_“Revel in what you are.”_

“Stop!” he screamed desperately, bashing his head against the wall. “Stop. Stop, I…”

He had no strength to keep on fighting. He let all the memories run through him, as unconsciousness dragged him to its calm nothingness.

*

_He was right,_ he thought as he proudly stood up. _I am stronger than I thought._

Three days had passed, and Will knew another heat was coming soon. The pain and the fever were back, although this time Will was more in control of himself. The proof of it laid lifelessly on the floor, its bloody mug staring back at him with empty eyes.

_He was right,_ Will thought. _This is who I am._

He had to make a decision now. He could come back on his own, or he could wait for Hannibal to find him. He wasn’t too far away anyway; barely half an hour away from where he knew his Alpha was probably freaking out. 

He stepped back to look at his design. A monster breaking free, broken chains no longer holding it down as it was finally able to look at it all. As the truth finally unravelled before it.

With a last look, he decided to put himself back together and head back to the streets. If he had intentionally left the door open, blood staining the snow-covered way, it was nothing to worry about.

He sat back and watched the show play before his eyes. Screams and fainting, policemen and reporters. And just half a day later, a questioning header all over the newspapers. 

**IS THE CHESAPEAKE RIPPER BACK SO SOON?**

He sat back, newspapers all around him, waiting to be found. He knew, after all, the only person able to find him was the same person that was now knocking on his door. He waited patiently for his scent to reach the person outside; when it did, the door came down with a single kick to it.

Feral eyes stared back at him as he calmly stood up, hands to his sides, taking advantage of the last minutes of conscience he would have in some days.

“Take me with you,” he muttered. His Alpha didn’t hesitate to obey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The memories Will recovers are from his heat (mostly, the cheesy stuff Hannibal says), from when he lost memory and ended up at the warehouse with the second victim (the discussion about what Will is, and why Hannibal did what he did - he showed Will what he had done, then made him forget), and from the first time he stayed at Hannibal's house (the bit about Hannibal trying to induce his heat).
> 
> What a rollercoaster for Will this chapter was, huh?
> 
> I had no idea how to continue this, until someone special (inadvertently) helped me figure it out (?) So, this story has a maximum of two chapters left, although I think the next one might be the final one.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, for your comments, and kudos! <3 
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr!](http://headfullofaliens.tumblr.com/)


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